


Day by Day

by Spoodlemonkey



Category: New Blood (TV)
Genre: First Time, Fluff, Living Together, Long suffering Rash, M/M, Post Episode 3, Pre-Relationship, implied sexual content only
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-17
Updated: 2018-01-17
Packaged: 2019-03-06 04:42:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13403700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spoodlemonkey/pseuds/Spoodlemonkey
Summary: It's...weird. Living with Stefan.





	Day by Day

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd, any mistakes are my own! Also apologies for any Canadian slip ups, lack of British-isms! This is my second time writing these guys, so hopefully they're not too OOC!!! If you enjoy share the love with some Kudos ;) and you automatically get a big hug from me!

It’s...weird. Not living with two women anymore, not having his mother's friends over at all hours and he uses the word  _ friend _ loosely. He never knows who half of them are, people his mother has adopted, people who don’t have the big family he’s grown up with, who might not have  _ anyone _ and she welcomes with open arms. He loves her for it, even if it means crawling out of bed after a grueling evening shift and finding three strange women sitting at the island in their kitchen, ogling him over their coffee mugs because he’s forgotten to change out of his pajamas before venturing out of the safety of his room. 

He’s used to Leila banging on the bathroom door if he’s taking too long, because she’s learned from years of experience that coming in is a sure fire way to scar them  _ both _ . He’s used to the way the house has to be spotless and if he tracks mud in on his clothes or grease from his bike he’s going to be treated to a stern look, lecture, and will be cleaning that up  _ before _ it sets. 

He almost misses it.

Because Stefan has his old roommates over at odd hours when they have to be at work in the morning and shouldn’t be passing around the bottle of spirits like it’s  _ water _ . 

“They’re Polish,” is his explanation as Jan raids their kitchen for snacks to help soak up some of the booze. Stefan’s sprawled next to him on the couch, somehow tucked against Rash’s side, head lolling to rest in the crook of his neck. His alcohol drenched breath  _ stinks _ and tickles the bare skin there. 

He barges into the room when Rash is half out of the shower and barely has time to grab a towel to save any modesty. 

“Seen it all before,” Stefan mumbles around his toothbrush, an infuriating smirk in place as he gives Rash a once over. Rash gives him the two fingered salute, secures his towel and books it out of there before Stefan can catch the blush that’s rapidly darkening his skin. The fact that Stefan leaves the door propped open when he’s in there showering himself is not lost on Rash but he doesn’t take the invitation, if he needs the washroom he waits until Stefan is safely clothed before chasing him out of there. 

Even if it’s more than a little tempting to say  _ fuck it _ and see how wide Stefan’s eyes go when he pulls back the shower curtain. 

_ And _ Stefan tracks mud and grease  _ everywhere.  _

Their apartment is made up largely of creams and whites and fucking  _ beige; _ they can’t afford to wreck the carpets and furniture when it’s not technically theirs in the first place. But it’s like he’s always covered in something, tracking mud in on his boots, grease on his hands and Rash can’t figure out  _ how _ when he’s known Stefan for  _ months _ and he’d seemed pretty clean the entire time.

(He tracks in blood once, after a particularly nasty case. It takes a lot of bleach to get it out of the carpet and he’s pretty sure that the tiles in the bathroom will permanently have it caked into the grout. But Rash doesn’t complain about it. Not when Stefan was half concussed and bleeding and scaring the  _ shit _ out of Rash before Leila could get there. 

Besides, he was bleeding too, a bit. So that would make him a hypocrite.) 

He can see the upside to saying sod it all and moving back in with his mother and sister. At least then he wouldn’t be sending the majority of his paycheck towards a place he’s terrified he’s going to  _ ruin _ with their line of work. 

And he wouldn’t have to worry about Stefan bursting into the washroom because he can’t wait  _ another moment _ to brush his fucking teeth and catching him with his cock in his hand. Although, he can’t lie and say he hasn’t wished for it to happen, if only to see if it leads where he wants it to. 

He knows he’d miss him though, miss the constant noise, low humming in the morning to outright singing in a language he has no hope of understanding in the afternoon, filling up the space. The way he spreads out, books and clothes and knick knacks  _ everywhere _ and were it anyone but Stefan it would be chaos, but there’s a system to it and instead of driving Rash insane it’s comforting, feels like a proper home. 

Stefan’s gotten better with gauging Rash’s moods, probably from months of  _ pushing and pushing _ until he snaps just to get a reaction from him. So when it’s late enough, and Rash is seriously considering just sinking into the couch and sleeping there  _ forever _ , Stefan catches on, is quick to usher the boys out. The empty bottle of spirits sits on the coffee table, shot glasses spread out around it. He lets his eyes falls closed thinking gratefully about how he doesn’t have to crawl out of bed tomorrow at all if he wants. 

The couch sinks next to him and a warm weight settles against him. He gets a whiff of Stefan’s shampoo as he rests his head on Rash’s shoulder, curls brushing against his cheek when he shifts. This cuddling thing is becoming a trend for them, he muses. And it should alarm him how used to it he’s gotten but really, he’s too tired to expend the energy on that. 

“We should go to bed.” He manages to string together a sentence, lulled by strong alcohol, a good evening, and the weight of Stefan as he slings an arm across his chest and snuggles closer. Rash wonders if he can hear the pounding of his heart, as he slips lower, presses his ear against his chest. He doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t allow himself to, to wrap his arm around Stefan, to soak up this intimacy. He manages to peel his eyes open, though they’re heavy with sleep. 

“Is that an invitation?” Even half asleep Stefan manages to sound too smug and Rash thinks  _ fine _ . If that’s how he wants to play it.

“If you think you can stay awake for it.” 

Eyebrows raised, Stefan meets his gaze, searching. Rash forces himself to hold the gaze, puts everything out there and waits to see if all of this has been Stefan messing around with him for fun or if there’s anything to it. 

And then his lips quirk into a tiny grin and he shifts until he’s seated in Rash’s lap and his smile is a lot more  _ wicked _ . 

“I’m just worried you won’t be able to keep up.”

Rash snorts, curls his hand around the back of Stefan’s neck, into those tempting curls and  _ tugs _ .

Their lips meet and it’s like nothing he’s had before; something he didn’t know how much he needed until now. 

It takes a while but they eventually make it to a bed. 

It certainly doesn’t stop Rash from considering moving back into his old room, but Stefan is a pretty big incentive to stay. 


End file.
